Shoes, Ships, and Sealing Wax

Are we expecting snow?

I stopped at the grocery store on my way home for a few things, including a loaf of bread.

Easier said than done...the bread aisle was nearly empty.

As I stood in line, I pondered why there'd be a run on bread in August, then I noticed a child in a school uniform.

Must be all those lunch boxes needing sandwiches. I wonder if they were also out of peanut butter and jelly?

There's no Santa Claus, anyway

I marked my transition from child to adult by the first year I didn't say Yay, it's almost Christmas! but rather Oh, crap! It's almost Christmas.

Similarly, I know I am now really a manager, because instead of viewing the facilities-related office closure as Yay! A free day off! I'm moaning Crap! I have work to do!

I can name that tune in one note

Same old song: Chaos. Work. Pets. House. Family.

I've made this joke before too, but this is a new picture, since I'm just getting around to looking at this year's vacation shots. Not to relax and relive the vacation, but because I needed to find one. Not this one, of course. Another mole missed.

Could be worse...I could be the mole.

"But I'm sort of making peace with that"

Well, it was a nice theory while it lasted.

The rat died tonight. Not in my arms, literally, but in the box as I was carrying him into the vet. I knew, from his seizures and gasping breath, that he was dying, and I didn't want to prolong his suffering. And since I have no idea if he was suffering, what I mean is, I I didn't want to prolong my suffering.

All's well that ends

I feel sorta like I went through the wringer this week: the car, the rat, the other rat, the work thing, the other work thing, the other other work thing. Beaker imitation aside, I thought I was doing ok 'til last night, when every large joint in my body throbbed, I felt weak and sick, and ended up going to bed at 8 p.m.

It's not the flu, just my body going on strike the way it does if I haven't been eating right, sleeping right, exercising, and have been worrying too much. Damn mind-body connection.

The car is fixed, the other rat will be ok (the rat, well, we're just trying to keep him comfortable now, but I'm sort of making peace with that), and by the time I left the office today, the work things were pretty much under control.

I have seen enough horror movies to know it's not a good idea to relax and say "Well, now, the monster's dead!" but I'm hoping for a good re-grouping weekend.

Bits & pieces

I really didn't intend for the Tommy Makem post to end up right under the Muppets singing Danny Boy. That's a bit of an unfortunate juxtaposition.

I am spectacularly indifferent to Barry Bonds, but I kinda like Mike Bacsik.

I spent the entire day today writing targets for the new fiscal year. I'm pretty sure I am now a character in Dilbert...a character with pointy hair.

Speaking of Dilbert...a co-worker came to me to complain about something I'd done. For perhaps the first time in my entire professional life, I didn't care; I was actually secure in the feeling that she was over-reacting. And it really unnerved her when she said "You don't seem very upset by this," and I answered "Actually, it doesn't upset me at all."

The estimate to fix my car was $1100, but when I went to pick it up, they only charged me $943.01. And I was so happy, I sang all the way home.

Trash talk

This is for Ted, who back in April called my beloved Nationals "cast-offs, wannabe's and never-were's," and suggested

It's not going to get better, and they need a miracle of biblical proportions - ala the Amazin' Mets - just to reach up to the level of lousy.

I know we still have three games against his Giants this series, and there's a very good chance that Barry Bonds will hit his record-breaking 756th home run in one of them. But it didn't happen last night, when Nats rookie [that is, the guy that was playing A ball for Ted's own Potomac Nationals earlier this season!] John Lannan was on the mound.

I can handle this level of lousy.

I am Beaker

Remember Beaker from the Muppets? He was the beaten-on lab assistant that ran around flapping his hands saying "Mi mi mi mi mi mi mi mi!"

Today was my review with my boss, and of course I've been out of work for six days, so I had a bit of catching up to. But I also have a very sick rat, so I wanted to get to work early and get as much as possible done so that I could hopefully slip out for a vet appointment.

That would be just the kind of morning that the car would break down, wouldn't it?

So I got to work late, took care of a few things, mercifully rescheduled the review with my pet-friendly boss, got the rat to the vet courtesy of my mom, and got the car to the shop.

(The "few things" at work included trying to track down information for a vendor who called me because one of my co-workers left me as her contact while she's on vacation...which would have been lovely, had her vacation not overlapped two days with mine, and had she briefed me on what situations might come up. So I got to deal with cranky vendors, which wasn't on my to-do list. Dealing with a cranky me, however, will be the first item on her agenda when she gets back.)

The rat has, in the vet's optimistic estimation, less than a fifty percent chance. Oh, but this was funny...in the waiting room, as I cradle my obviously unwell little rat, one of the other clients tries to engage me in conversation...they had a rat once. He was smart. Maybe my rat will get better...then she turns to her son, who has their pet in a pillow case (you know what gets carried in a pillow case, right?) and says "That reminds me, we need to pick up frozen mice for Mr. Snake."

It's curious, a mother's instinct to protect her child...my mom stiffened and sharply inhaled. I was afraid she was gonna go smack the insensitive woman.

Anyway, I got the car to the shop without it stalling and getting me killed. And when I got home, I checked my e-mil, to find a message from another pissed-off vendor. I tried to check my voicemail, but our voicemail system doesn't like my passcode any more. That's ok, if there were any more vendors, I'd probably just feel bad about my inability to help them.

I tried to find a good video of Beaker running around flapping his hands, but I found this instead. It made me laugh, and I needed that.

Tommy Makem

Aw, Tommy Makem died.

I used to see him with Liam Clancy, down at Lisner Auditorium. I even bought a tin whistle because of him.

I get kinda choked up when I hear Four Green Fields.

Speaking of Four Green Fields, this is how the wire service report described it:

He brought audiences to tears with "Four Green Fields," about a woman whose sons died trying to prevent strangers from taking her fields.

Huh. I always assumed that the field in bondage was Northern Ireland, and those fine strong sons were the republicans...guess I was reading too much into it, all these years.

Only slightly tan, not particularly rested, and never really ready

The house is full of ants.

I forgot that I packed wet towels, so one of these duffel bags is going to stink.

The only food in the kitchen is salt water taffy.

And I spent yesterday at the emergency vet.

[One of the books I read on vacation was Fowl Weather by Bob Tarte. If you wish to figure me out, read this book. Bob has birds, I have rodents, but we are definitely crazy in the same way.]

I'm back

...and as usual, post-vacation, I need to hit the ground running. Work, pets, house, work, the usual.

I'm in better shape than I was this time last year, that's for sure. And maybe in better shape than I was a week ago, too. There's something about water.